Mine for Yours
by Diary
Summary: Warning: References to past suicide attempt. After a very thorough lesson in vocabulary, linguistics, why people must learn to apply proper spelling and punctuation to texting, and Sebastian's utter hatred of 'iced tea' being referred to as 'ice tea', he finally gets to the point. Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

"Hey."

Sebastian catches the ball he's been throwing at the ceiling. "Dave Karofsky. I haven't done anything lately."

"Yeah," Dave agrees, closing the door. "Anything being the key; some of the others are worried about you."

"Karma," Sebastian answers. "You know the sayings."

"What's going on, Sebastian?"

"We're not friends. Go away, Karofsky."

Holding his hands up, Dave says, "Fine, but before I do, will you make me a promise?"

"What?"

"If you call and I don't answer, would you leave a message? I swear I'll call you back as soon as I hear it."

Sighing, Sebastian sits up. "If you're determined to play hero, sit down."

Sitting at the desk, Dave answers, "I'm not playing hero. I'm just worried."

"I'm honest about who I am," Sebastian tells him. "What I do with people it isn't what I consider as using them. I'm honest about what I want, what I expect, and if I suspect they're lying about what they want, I walk away. I don't try to convince people to have causal sex if that's not what they want."

"How badly did this guy hurt you," Dave asks, quietly.

"What does it matter?"

"It matters because I want to know what I'm dealing with. Did he insult you, or will I find bruises under your blazer?"

Scoffing, Sebastian rolls his sleeves up. "I can do a complete striptease if you want. It was Blaine. I wanted a relationship; he's trying to deal with your porcelain princess dumping him. I was honest, and- wow, is he good. I thought he was a genuinely nice guy. I thought he was a genuinely nice guy who was hot and had a self-righteous boyfriend who was holding him back. The thing is, I can't accuse him of dishonesty. Because he's right, looking back, he never technically lied. But I made what I wanted clear, and afterwards, he made it clear he'd only wanted sex."

Dave sighs. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," Sebastian answers, bluntly. "I don't own any belts, and if I wanted to slit my wrists, I'd have to deal Herr Trent, Nazi master of the razors. I use my own personal electric razor, and he hid my IPad and my French homework when I signed out one of the school-issued ones for Thad."

"Not that I don't care about you, but is there a reason he freaked out when-" Dave pauses.

"I wouldn't have signed it out for Thad if I thought he was going to use it for something sordid," Sebastian answers, mildly. "Trent is just trying to adjust to not having his humourless, socially inept quasi-boyfriend around all the time."

"It's hard when people go off to college."

"The point is, Country Bumpkin, I'm fine. I'll be fine. I just need to figure out how to balance being a decent member of society with the overwhelming boredom that tempts me back into my nefarious way."

"We could go to Scandals," Dave suggests.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your family?"

"Some of my family survived the Nazis," Dave says, "but otherwise, what you said about Trent applies to my dad, and-"

Making a noise of understanding, Sebastian pulls himself up. "I'll get changed."

"I'll wait outside," Dave says, quickly leaving the room before Sebastian can take off any of his clothes.

…

"Why-"

"You're supposed to be encouraging my rehabilitation."

Dave takes a sip of his drink. "You love dancing with men. How many times have you told me that you being an asshole has nothing to do with your sexuality?"

"Maybe I was wrong."

"Don't," Dave says, traces of desperation entering his voice. "You know what happens when people think there's something wrong with being gay. I never imagined having to worry about you. I suck at helping people, Sebastian."

Sebastian scoffs. "Here's your problem, Yogi bear: It's not that you're big or, let's be honest, a doofus. It's because you have no ability to compartmentalise. You're either a homophobic prick prone to violence, or you're a martyr who feels guilty even when it comes to things that legitimately have nothing to do with you."

"What's your problem, Smythe?"

Sighing, Sebastian slumps down. "Aside from having an admitted lack of empathy, my problem is that I don't know how to deal with people I like. The way I deal with people I don't like leaves much to be desired, I'm aware, but- it's easy navigating causal sex, it's easy dealing with everyday people I have no particular opinion on. But when I like someone, I-"

"Go too far in letting them know?"

"Probably, but I also make it into a joke. Until two nights ago, I'd always talked about getting in Blaine's pants. So, why should I be surprised he took all those over that night seriously? Then, there's you, but I'm still much too sober to go into that."

"Anderson and Kurt ambushed me one day at school," Dave says. "Then, he cheated on Kurt. I've never liked him, but even if I did, what he did to both of you was wrong."

"I loathe Kurt Hummel."

"Yeah, I go that."

"Why do you like him so much?"

"We've had this-"

"No, we haven't. He's brave, he's kind, he has killer ass. Or so say you. He's helped you. But when it comes down to it, why are you still so in love with him after only sporadically seeing him for over a year?"

"Mirror," Dave mutters.

"I'm not in love with Blaine. My only real options for a potentially long-term boyfriend are him or Trent, and as much as Thad pisses me off at times, I do respect him. Once he stops being so- Muslim, he'll finally wake up and realise that normal people don't allow you to perform numerous scientific and psychological experiments on them unless they're utterly stupid or hopelessly devoted. Him being in love with Trent is something he acknowledged a long time ago."

"He can't be Muslim and gay?"

"Well, he can't be the fundamentalist he is and have a fulfilling relationship."

"He doesn't seem that extreme," Dave notes. "I didn't even know he was one until you told me."

"He almost married a sixteen-year-old girl when he was eighteen. He refuses to drink sodas, and I again refer to the unlicensed, often unsupervised medical and psychological experiments."

"When was the last time you had a soda?"

"Is this your brilliant plan of perking me up?"

"Why are they your only options?"

"Either dance with me or order another round."

Dave has a brief moment of mental debate -getting a person deliberately drunk in order to pry information out of them is something he once feared being done to him- and then, signals for another round.

Sebastian gives him a smirking look, and Dave resists the urge to tell him that Kurt and Santana are right about him resembling a meerkat.

…

"Why didn't you like me?"

"I've always liked you," Dave answers, lying on Sebastian's bed as Sebastian repeatedly pokes his ankle.

"Then, why did you want someone else?"

"Okay," Dave says, confused but wary. "Remember that you're drunk. Now, what are you talking about?"

"You asked me how to get a guy to like you. Porcelain Princess, if I recall. No, I mean: assume. I swear, I'm usually good at English and grammar. Although, that wasn't a grammatical mistake, it was…"

After a very thorough lesson in vocabulary, linguistics, why people must learn to apply proper spelling and punctuation to texting, and Sebastian's utter hatred of 'iced tea' being referred to as 'ice tea', he finally gets to the point.

"I thought you were going to ask me out. And I was going to say yes. But you wanted someone else. And because I'm a jackass with all these issues, I insulted you, even though I knew you had low self-esteem and unresolved issues with your sexuality."

Dave freezes, knowing he must handle this with careful sensitivity.

…

Trent, Thad, and Trent's roommate all blink blearily.

"Thad, you can sleep in Sebastian's room," Dave says, leading the subdued Sebastian inside. "Trent, he's your responsibility."

"Coward," Sebastian mutters.

"Whatever," Dave says. "I hope you'll talk to me in the morning, but I can't blame you if you don't."

The roommate leaves, and Trent directs a still half-asleep Thad to his bed. "Jack's sleeping in Sebastian's room," he says, giving Dave a look. His tone isn't exactly annoyed, but it's obvious he's not happy about his sleep being disturbed to play baby-sitter.

"Why did I even have my own room if I just ended up with you most of the time," Thad wonders aloud, cocking his head and staring at Trent in curiosity.

However Trent handles all this, Dave doesn't know, quickly leaving.

…

"There," Dave says, having finally reorganised Sebastian's bookshelf and closet.

Apparently, Jack has to have things organised by colour before he can relax. Sebastian has declared that the price for talking to Dave is that everything be arranged back to where it was.

Thankfully, Thad has no memory of last night, didn't particularly care how he went from Trent's bed to Jack's (likely because Trent was still in bed with him when he woke up), and had given Dave help.

"You may join me for breakfast," is all Sebastian is willing to concede.

After he's finished half his food, he grins at Dave. "You really are whipped, aren't you?"

"Are you just going to ignore this, and make me feel even more guilt I can't handle?"

"I don't have deep, lovey-dovey feelings for you," Sebastian answers. "Here's the truth: You're hot, and we have fun together. Back then, I thought maybe we could be something. Instead, whether my words were the driving factor or not, they were a contributing one, and I don't know how to live with that guilt. Everyone around here has a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or an underage girl their parents have wanted them to marry since they were a toddler. Hunter's single, but I wouldn't be surprised if he plans to do a more Western form of what Thad tried to do. I'm lonely and guilty, and you know better than most that there isn't anything you can do to fix it."

"I can help some."

"You need to get on with your own life, Country Bumpkin."

"And you need to learn the difference between being a nice guy and forcing yourself into martyrdom; it doesn't suit you."

Sebastian looks at him in surprise.

Finally, he inquires, "Where'd that come from, Yogi?"

"I'm not the dumb hick you and Kurt think I am," he answers. _Extraordinarily ordinary_ and _assistant manager at a rendering plant_ flash through his mind, along with _hamhock _and _not my type_. He firmly pushes all that aside.

"Does that mean I no longer have to fear you one day snapping and tossing me off the balcony?"

"If you were worried about that, you'd keep your crosse with you at all times."

"If I were worried about that, I'd utilise Dalton security," Sebastian retorts. "It may be crap at keeping Porcelain spies out, but I have no doubt it'd respond appropriately to a threat to one of the students whose parents pay the most money."

They finish breakfast, and Sebastian says, "Fine, so tell me, Karofsky, what should I do?"

"Get some actual help," he answers, immediately. "Did you know that the Warblers didn't even want to talk to me? Trent's the one who did, and he had a notecard they made him read. Everyone here backs off when you tell them to. I don't know what you need and don't. And," he pauses, before barrelling straight ahead, "however you feel about Blaine Anderson, he's proved that he isn't the answer. So, talk to the guidance counsellor here, tell your parents you need therapy, maybe join a chat room. But if you do that, be very careful."

"I'll make a deal with you."

"Or you could be a decent guy."

"Ask Kurt out."

He sighs.

"I'm serious," Sebastian says, looking over. "First, it'll piss Blaine off. However, more than that, you're in a better place, he's definitely single, and it's time you see once and for all where you stand with him. If there's any chance at all, or if you need to deal with the fact there isn't and move on. So, you ask him on a date, and I'll start talking to the guidance counsellor. If he thinks I need legitimate therapy, I'll talk to my parents."

"I can't."

"My mental health for yours."

"That's not fair, Smythe."

"Neither is me holing up in my room or you staying in limbo where you go to college, work, and never make an emotional or even sexual connection with someone else. You keep it up, and you'll end up with another belt around your neck."

The words are sharp and stinging, and Dave has to take several breaths to keep from shaking. He knows how low Sebastian can hit, but there are times when he doesn't expect it and feels the full force.

"Time limit?"

"He'll be back for Christmas. Do it, then. As a gesture of good faith, I'll start talking to Mr Clemmons next weekend. You back out, I back out."

"Just so we're clear, you're evil and insane."

"And you were a raging closet case. There turned out to be hope for you."

Reaching over to shake Sebastian's hand, he asks, "Can I hang out here?"

"Of course. Do you want to go on my morning run with me?"

"Sure," he answers. "Thanks."

"Same to you," Sebastian answers, nudging him as they stand and leave.


End file.
